


Holiday Candy 2016-1

by eerian_sadow



Series: fandom stocking 2016 [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, New Relationship, Old Married Couple, couple shenanigans, grumpy old married couple, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: A series of very short ficlets, showcasing the Ironhide/Ratchet and Prowl/Jazz pairings.Cute, fluffy and maybe a little silly sometimes.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mmouse15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/gifts).



1\.   
"Ratchet?"

"Ironhide."

The black mech sighed and tried not to shift the leg--recently welded back together and wrapped with a silvery mesh wrap that would be absorbed by his self-repair as he healed. "Ratchet, I'm supposed to be going over the weapon upgrades for _Xantium_ before the Wreckers take off."

Ratchet turned away from the rebuild he was working on, one of Bumblebee's arms by the color, and glared at his mate. "You are not leaving that berth for anything less than a full evacuation."

"I know that!" And he did. He had learned quickly and thoroughly that no amount of love would save him from the wrath of a medic whose orders had been disobeyed. "I don't have to go down there. Nothing's installed yet. I just have to look over the designs, if someone will pick them up and bring them to me."

"I ought to have them take the designs to Prowl after that stunt you pulled." The green mech's glare melted into a softer frown. "You deserve to sit there and rust in your boredom."

"Aw, Ratch!"

"But even I'm not that cruel. I'll go get them, as soon as Jolt comes out of recharge."

"Thank you. Xan will appreciate it more than all the rest of the Wreckers combined."

 

_Note: oops! I spilled my Sapient Ships headcanon on this one! Sorry!_

 

2.  
“Ratchet.”

“Hm.”

“Ratchet.”

“Ironhide, I’m in the middle of a delicate operation here.”

“You are not. You’re in the middle of re-attaching Prime’s arm. Again. You could do this in sleep mode. Which you will be, if you don’t stop and have the fuel you missed after the battle.”

“...”

“Ratchet…”

“It has been several Earth days, hasn’t it? Mikaela would have had a fit yesterday.”

“Does that mean I get to have a fit a day earlier now?”

“Absolutely not. Mikaela received special allowances, because she should not allow worrying over me to decrease her life expectancy.”

“I see how it is. Special allowances for the human, but none for your mate.”

“Very well. I will come and refuel with you, you overgrown hatchling.”

 

3.  
“Ironhide, what are we doing out here? You should be in with Optimus and Prowl, not lollygagging outside!”

Ironhide laughed. “Lollygagging? Is that a technical term?”

“Don’t avoid the question.” Ratchet huffed. “What are we doing out here?”

“You and I are spending a nice evening watching the sunset. And maybe the moon rise. Optimus and Prowl don’t _need_ me, but we need some time together.”

“And you thought that engaging in this… human ritual was the best way to do it?”

“It is a very impressive sunset this time of year.”

 

4.  
Ratchet stepped outside the hangar that he had carefully converted into a medical station, intent on activating his new solar collectors and recharging his energy levels in the sun. It was supposed to be a more streamlined affair than the emergency kit he had been using before--though neither was a perfect substitute for a tank full of fuel-grade energon--and for once he was actually looking forward to helping Que test one of his modifications. 

However, instead of soaking in the bright sun over Diego Garcia, he ducked back into the shadowy doorway almost immediately as his proximity alert warned him of an incoming projectile.

The bright pink water balloon splattered against the wall next to his head.

“Slag, Ratchet! I'm sorry!” Ironhide stepped in next to him and picked off the bits of pink latex rubber that had fallen onto his shoulder. “I thought you were Jazz. I owe him for the bird feathers. Are you all right?”

The medic pinned his partner with a dark look. “If you thought I was Jazz, why were you aiming so high?”

From behind Ironhide, Colonel Lennon shouted, “Busted!”

The black mech’s optics paled.

“Colonel,” Ratchet said calmly, upgrades forgotten. “My mate has until the count of ten to run. I hope you can provide me with sufficient ammunition in that amount of time.”

Ironhide turned and sprinted away, laughing, as Lennox pointed to a very large tub full of water balloons.

 

1\. Jazz stepped inside the quarters he shared with the Autobots’ second in command and frowned at the unusual sound that greeted him. It took him a moment to identify a small air compressor combined with the hiss of something spraying. 

In the Twins’ quarters, he wouldn't even wonder about it, but the sounds were very out of place in these rooms. “Prowl? Whatcha doing?”

The air compressor stopped a klik later. “I'm in the berthroom.”

That didn't actually answer his question, but the saboteur shrugged. Prowl probably just didn't want to shout at him. 

The visored mech made his way back to the berthroom, where he was greeted by the smell of very wet paint. He'd been smelling it since he stepped into their quarters, he realized, but had been distracted by the noise.

Then he blinked as he realized what he was seeing on the walls. Their berthroom wasn't the bright orange of the _Ark_ ’s anti-rust coating, but the rich silvers and greys of Polihex’s undercity, where he had grown up.

Immediately, Jazz felt a sense of comfort and _home_ wrap around his spark. Then Prowl’s arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed. “Prowl, this is amazing! You did it all in a day?”

The tactician leaned down and kissed the shorter mech on the cheek. “I did. Grapple and Hoist taught me a method of painting that let me lay two colors simultaneously. It made the work go quickly. Do you like it?”

“It's perfect. Just like home.”

“Good.” Prowl kissed him again. “Happy sparkday, Jazz.”

 

2\. “When we left cybertron, did you ever think we’d have days like this in the middle of the war?” Jazz handed his partner a cube of warmed energon, topped with flakes of copper and nickle, and leaned over to kiss the other mech on the cheek.

“Days where we did nothing but sit next to a window and watch the snow fall on the mountain?” Prowl turned before the saboteur could move away and placed a proper kiss on the other mechs lips. “Or the kind where we were both on base and off duty at the same time?”

“Both.” Jazz smiled at the tactician warmly. “I know I sure as slag wasn’t expecting it.”

“I was not, either, but I am certainly not taking it for granted.”

“Me either, babe. Me either.” Rather than move away, Jazz leaned in and nuzzled against Prowl’s cheek, settling in to watch the snow over his partner’s shoulder contentedly.

 

3\. Prowl’s wings drooped and his posture slumped as Jazz stared at the package in shock. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but he clearly had. Slowly, he drew the offending box back toward his chest, stopping just short of clinging to it and running away. “Forgive me. I understood that this was a gift-giving holiday, but I must have been mistaken.”

“No, Prowl, it’s not that!” Jazz’s hand flashed out and wrapped around his wrist as the tactician started to turn away. “It ain’t that at all. You’ve got your holidays right.”

“Then I must ask you to explain what I’ve done to offend you, because clearly you are not pleased with my gift.” He maintained just enough control not to add a cutting remark about the other mech not even opening it before getting upset.

“What?!” The saboteur’s mouth dropped open and he stared at the other mech. “You think i’m mad?”

“Surprise gifts are not usually met with silent stares.” Prowl tugged his wrist gently, trying to get the visored mech to let him go.

Jazz’s grip didn’t budge. “Prowl, the absolute dead last thing that I am is angry. I’m really, really, really surprised. In all the vorns we’ve known each other, you have never, ever, given me a gift.”

Embarrassment burned through Prowl. Jazz wasn’t wrong, and now he was calling him out on it. 

“I didn’t think you even _liked_ me that much,” the saboteur continued. “What brought this on all the sudden?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Prowl looked away. “If i had realized you would reject it so harshly, I wouldn’t have bothered at all.”

“You keep saying that I don’t want it, but I ain’t saying that.” Jazz’s free hand darted in quickly and pulled the package out of Prowl’s hand. He tucked it into his subspace before the tactician could protest. “Now, I’m trying to figure out just when things changed, because I think I like the idea of a Prowl who gives Christmas presents.”

“You… what?” The taller mech blinked several times, trying to kill the hope that flared up at Jazz’s words. The other mech couldn’t mean anything by it, surely.

“I like the version of you that gives Christmas presents.” Jazz’s worried face shifted into a cheeky grin. “I didn’t get you anything, though, so you’ll have to let me make you dinner instead.”

“I what?” He sounded like a broken record, and that was also embarrassing, but surely Jazz wasn’t actually implying that he wanted to engage in a Human _dating activity_.

“You heard me. You, me, dinner at my place. I think we’ve known each other long enough to skip all the build up.” 

“I... “ Prowl cycled his vents and forced himself to be brave--the kind that was wholly different from staring down Devastator unarmed. “All right. Tonight?”

“That sounds great.” Then Jazz shocked him one more time, standing up on his toes and leaning in to press a soft kiss to Prowl’s cheek. “I still don’t know what changed for you, but I’m glad it did.”


End file.
